


return

by munna



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: The Last Court
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 07:07:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2842367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/munna/pseuds/munna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the Huntress comes home. all is well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	return

**Author's Note:**

> This has no point other than that I Love the Ladies. Also, spoilers for parts of The Last Court.

The Abbess was already waiting in the Hall of Glories when she returned. 

"Huntress!" She rose quickly (but gracefully, of course, always so graceful) and strode towards Marquis, long robes trailing behind her. 

Against her better judgement--who knew who was watching, especially as of late--the Huntress wordlessly held out her hands, grasping the Abbess' tightly in return when she was in reach. 

"All is well," she said quietly. Then, under her breath, "for the moment, in any case."

The Abbess opened her mouth to speak but then, thinking better of it, let go of the Huntress' hands and motioned for them to leave. 

"Let's get you out of these dirt stained clothes, shall we? I'm sure the Dowager would be less than pleased to see you walking around so...wild looking." She smiled and began to lead the Huntress out of the Hall. "Not that I mind it."

The Huntress snorted, but gave a small smile in return. "Please. You're right though...Maker, I don't even want to think of what wild story the Bard might come up with should he walk in."

"Well, I'm sure it couldn't be any more strange than what really happened."

"That's true...although it didn't go as badly as it could have." Here, she paused in front of study door, nodding to the guards posted outside. "Excuse us. The Abbess and I have private matters to discuss."

The guards stepped aside with a salute and the two women entered the room, the Huntress locking the door behind them with a large but nondescript key. 

In one fluid motion, the Abbess sat herself down in the chair closest to the window and turned to look at the Huntress as she came to lean against the desk. 

"So what happened, exactly?"

The Huntress sighed. "Well, as you know the ah...lord of the woods asked me to join him for a feast." She picked up the letter opener--the one with a large opal embedded into the hilt, a gift from the Abbess--and began twirling it between her fingers. "I met his guide in the woods, and they took me to a grove, where they had set up a grand dining table out of stone and moss. Very beautiful...I'm still not sure if it was real or some strange magic."  
The Abbess watched her lover's lithe fingers play with the knife in her hand, work the blade with an absent but clearly practiced ease. "Were you the only one there?"

"No, there were quite a few guests, actually." The Huntress paused. "Forest folk."

She nodded; the Abbess knew the children of the forest all too well. She had seen them hiding in the shadows more than once when she went in the dark of night to complete her rites. 

"He has a wife, did you know? She's very beautiful."

"Oh really?"

"Yes...she was a, um, a dryad I believe is the term? She was very kind; regal, too." The Huntress glanced out the window, towards the trees in the garden down below. "Smelled just like the Applewoods in the spring; you know, when the trees are all in bloom?"

"Hmm...she sounds lovely." The Abbess continued to watch the Huntress play with the letter opener, twisting the blade back and forth through her fingers. 

The Huntress turned to look back at the Abbess, smiling. "She reminded me of you, actually."

The Abbess smiled in return, gentle and slow, and finally reached out to still the Marquis' hand, grasping it tightly. "Is that so."

"Mm. I think you two would get along." The Huntress glanced down at their joined hands. 

"Perhaps. What else happened?"

"I may have made a terrible decision. I never am good with politics...But we'll see how it all pans out." The Huntress laughed, scratching the back of her head. "But in return the Horned Knight agreed to return the Bard. So maybe now he'll stop writing bawdy songs about me."  
"Oh he's always done that."

"I know, but somehow it's gotten worse!" She huffed. "Sometimes, that man..."

The Abbess stroked her hand, laughing lightly. It had only been a few days, but she had missed this contact dearly. They never did much more than this; she was still devoted to her vows. But she didn't want or need much more. This companionship was enough. 

The Huntress smiled, reaching down and taking both of the Abbess' hands in hers. "What about you? How have you fared?"

"I am well. Nothing particularly interesting has happened, truth be told." She thought briefly about the riot that happened in the market square the other day. Better not to discuss that now; she's sure the Baron will be more than happy to bring it to the Marquis' attention once he's found out she's returned. "Other than me missing your presence terribly."

Here, the Huntress' smile grew even deeper. She moved to kneel down on the floor below the Abbess, her grip on her hands tight as ever. 

"I missed you as well, my lady." She leaned forward and, unconsciously the Abbess moved to meet her, their lips softly brushing together once, then twice, then thrice. 

The Huntress pulled back, just a bit, to study the Abbess' reaction. Andraste and Maker above, her Marquis was lovely. 

The Maker couldn't blame her for wanting to kiss her again, could He? Not when her hair was wild and red and her eyes shone so brightly through the dirt smudged on her face. No, He certainly could not blame her. 

The Abbess smiled through half-lidded eyes and stood, pulling the Huntress up with her. 

"You're filthy," she laughed and began to lead her love out the door. "Why don't you come with me to the Abbey? The Guildmistress brought me some lovely soaps from Antiva, and I've been meaning to let you try one of the vintages. It's my favorite; a sweet red..."


End file.
